


Confessions of the Immortal

by HermioneSpencer



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/F, Look at how enticing it could be, we all want it to happen, you know you want it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 01:25:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6100270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneSpencer/pseuds/HermioneSpencer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara and Me find it difficult to ignore the big question mark between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confessions of the Immortal

Clara and Me had made a dream team. Their time in the lesser famous stole TARDIS had opened up opportunities for excitement, adventure and genuine character development. Me had grown resentful in her lonely life. She had shunned everyone who had tried to get close to her after the death of her children. Of course she had… outliving your whole family tree is bound to make you wary of getting involved with anyone. She was unable to find the joy in attachments, and this made her bitter. But when she had ended up with Clara in the diner, she had found someone that she wouldn’t have to say goodbye to any time soon, and could actually get to know well before signs of age and physical capabilities deteriorated, and before she could do anything to stop it, end up dead. Leaving her alone again. No, Clara was a new era… the era that, in her diaries, became dubbed as “The Diner Days”. One day, she would forget everything that happened in these days, the happiest of her unthinkably long life, but for now, she didn’t have to think about it. All she had to think about was how Clara had taught her empathy on their many journeys, and had softened the callousness of her heart, as most important relationships do.  
  
  
As for Clara, her character development came from spending time away from the Doctor. Every problem they ever tried to solve, every devastating event that happened and needed to be sorted… the Doctor had always had a solution. Sometimes, he had even known the outcomes before the problems had arrived! This easy answer to everything, “The Doctor will know… he’ll do something” had let Clara get reckless. Because she could do anything at all, make any decision, and the Doctor would have sorted it out. But this ended when she got to the trap street. She had been too reckless, had risked her own life because of her faith in the Doctor, and this had, quite directly, made it impossible to continue their journeying together. Clara and Me had had many adventures all over the galaxy by now. They tended to stay away from Earth because of what it meant to both of them; Me had already lived through it, and Clara could not return because she was one heartbeat away from dying on that very planet. Clara, now having to make decisions with Me based on the resources they had, had made Clara quite a bit more sensible. She never played with anyone’s lives again, and as Clara had softened Me’s heart, Me had softened Clara’s impulsive tendencies.  
  
  
Both of them, however, refused to acknowledge these facts, and pretended that their adventures had not become more than just adventures to the both of them.  
  
  
For now, they made a detective duo that was renowned throughout the galaxy for their effectiveness and speed, but also their ability to calm even the most excited of creatures through their voices alone, telling stories of their experiences. Me had far more life experience than Clara could ever dream to achieve, but that isn’t to say that she didn’t have something to contribute. Finding herself frozen in a state that is between life and death, she could not be killed or hurt – her body was going to stay as it was for as long as she avoided returning to Gallifrey to face the raven. She now believed that she did not have the right to call herself alive, and when she made that decision about herself… she then learnt just how valuable life really is. Me knew what a curse too much of it can be.  
  
  
The day that the both of them truly appreciated everything life can give was a normal day like any other – if you can call what these two lived “days”. Neither of them slept much, but sometimes it was a good way to use the time. For Me, it was a way to use up pointless hours, for Clara, a way to forget what she was running from for a short amount of time.  
  
The two were discussing what place they would be going to next, what they could do for their next adventure. They were currently on a planet called New Earth, and had “parked” their TARDIS in a city called New New York. They sat at the bar of their diner and drank milkshakes. No one seemed to be coming in, thankfully, but it was probably because nobody walked these days – it was all about the New Age Industrialisation these days. Machinery was everything. But Me and Clara were grateful for the peace. Me had requested saying goodbye to the Face of Boe, who was dying. She couldn’t really remember who he was, but she knew that it was important she say goodbye. It had been quite harrowing, to see something so powerful, reduced to something so weak. It was always painful seeing something die.  
  
  
“Next we’re going to a planet that has only kittens and cotton wool.” Me said, staring into the froth on the top of her drink, playing with it with her straw.  
  
  
“I agree. Can I request a back-up planet, if such a planet as you want to visit doesn’t exist, which has only ice cream and candyfloss?” Clara smirked, and when Me gave no reaction, Clara nudged her left arm with her right elbow. “Come on, Me. I know that was tough, but like you said, you didn’t remember him very well. What’s so different about the Face of Boe to Ragmad we met on our last trip? You weren’t so cut up about him.”  
  
  
Me was silent for a moment, but then turned her head to look at Clara.  
  
  
“Do you know who Boe was? Who he used to be?”  
  
  
Clara, having seen the Doctor’s whole timeline knew very well who he was, but she wanted to know what Me had to say. “No. Who?”  
  
  
“He was an immortal, Clara. His name was Captain Jack Harkness, and he was immortal. He should never have died at all. I’m just… a little scared. I thought I had infinity ahead of me, but what if I don’t? It’s a real reality check when you realise you might not be as indestructible as you once thought.”  
  
  
Clara considered this. “Well. If you do die, make sure you do it when I go to Gallifrey.” She winked at Me in an attempt to make her comment seem less important than it was. All her comment seemed to do, however, was make Me feel worse. She abandoned her pointless game with the straw and put her head in her hands, her elbows resting on the bar. She addressed the table as she spoke.  
  
  
“Well that’s just it, isn’t it? It’s my fault you’re dying anyway! Maybe it’s the universe’s plan to make me pay penance for sentencing an innocent man to death; to watch you die, and then die as slowly as Boe after you, holding that guilt for the rest of my life.” She looked up, horrified as another thought came to her. “What if I die just after I’ve forgotten the very last thing I ever remember about you? Clara, why did you let me come today? I’m terrified now.”  
  
  
Clara laughed. “Do you really think that anything I said could have stopped you? Sure, I could have tied you to your bed in the lower decks of this TARDIS but I’m pretty sure this one also listens to you more than me. You would have wriggled your way out of anything I did.”  
  
  
Me was silent for a moment, and then coyly said “I don’t think I would wriggle free if I wanted to be there.”  
  
  
Clara froze mid swallow and nearly choked. “You mean, tied up? If you- wanted to be tied up?”  
  
  
Me gave a small cough and then nodded at her, but didn’t look into her eyes.  
  
  
Clara gave it a moment of thought and then giggled, quite unlike herself. She had not expected their relationship to become what it had – they were very close friends, but every now and then, one of them said something that hinted at a bigger picture. They had never acted on any of the attraction they felt for each other. Clara guessed that that was mostly out of fear. All they had was each other, and if something went wrong, that was the end of everything they had. Neither one wanted to risk making the first move. She shuddered for a moment and blamed it on a non-existent chill.  
  
  
Me spoke up. “Clara, you know that I have lived for a very long time. And you know that I found it very hard after my first few centuries to get attached to anyone… well… that was because they were gone in the blink of an eye. I never got time to remember any of them. But you… Clara, with you, I have found someone that has become my equal. We are both dead and alive, in our respective ways. Neither of us should exist, but we do. And we hide behind our exteriors, pretending we are tougher than we are. But you and I both know that there is something we are not saying, so I am going to go ahead and say it before you face the raven, because the Gods know that you can have an eternity to say something and never get round to saying it.  
  
  
“Clara… I love you. And that terrifies me, but I have to accept that I do, and spending this time with you in our diner, pretending we are just friends, is only getting harder every minute. Each person in the world lives for just a second, in the long run. They are on their world for an instant, and they join in with the community around them and give what they can to those they know, be it a discovery of information, a discipline of thought or even just their love. But whatever they give, they have given it, and then they die. But what they gave doesn’t die. The information gets written down in books or recorded in some way, the discipline of thought gets taught to the new people joining the world, and the love… the love is shared and spread. The love that some beings have to give is immense. But if you have so much love to give, but never share it… no one is taught the value of such a thing, and that is how love dies.  
  
  
“So, Clara, before you run away and leave me for a black raven, can you consider making us something more than what we are? Can you help a girl share the love she has, stocked up behind her cold façade, hoarded away for centuries… that has been waiting patiently, all to be showered on one very special girl that its keeper has fallen for…?”  
  
  
Throughout Me’s confession, Clara had been looking straight at her. When she had finished, Clara felt a tugging at her mouth as she smirked, the side of her mouth being pulled up.  
  
  
“I thought you’d never ask.” She turned in her seat so that her body was facing Me’s. She brought a hand up and ran it through Me’s hair. She held the back of Me’s head and pulled it close to hers, so that her lips which had previously been engaged in a smirk were now engaged in something else entirely.  
  
  
And boy, was it a better engagement than sucking milkshake though a straw.


End file.
